


Anti-Cuddle Curse

by noiproksa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Banter, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, Self-Made Family, Team Free Will, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-06 00:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16377716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noiproksa/pseuds/noiproksa
Summary: When a witch curses Team Free Will, Dean realizes how much being able to touch Cas really means to him.(Intended as gen, but can be read as Destiel pre-slash.)





	1. Chapter 1

“Dean, now!” yelled Sam, who had just lured the witch into position. Dean took the shot and immediately cursed under his breath when the old woman rounded on him and deflected the bullet with a flick of her wrist, sending it into the bookshelf behind her.

“Ohhh, naughty boy,” she chastised and muttered a spell under her breath.

Straight away, Dean felt something inside him contract, sharp pain flooding his body, making it hard to breathe. The gun dropped from his hands as he was clutching at his throat, and a split second later he was on his hands and knees, dry heaving and spitting up blood.

“Cas,” he got out in between heaves. He was vaguely aware of Sam battling the witch unsuccessfully himself, and the next moment, Cas had made his way across the room and was kneeling down next to him. He curled his hand around the side of Dean’s face and made all the pain go away instantly.

“Thanks,” Dean said, picking up his gun and stumbling to his feet just as Sam was flung across the room and landed next to him.

“Oh, what do we have here?” The witch asked, though her voice gave away her indignation at the fact that they had thwarted her curse. “No more cheating, Cheaty McCheater Pants!” she told Dean sternly.

“I got this,” Cas said and approached the witch, who had started muttering in a language Dean didn’t know. Dean shot at her once more, and yet again the bullet didn’t reach its target. Instead, it hit the ceiling and sent pieces of plaster flying down.

Before Cas could get to her, the witch had finished the spell and threw her arms straight forward, a reddish light shooting out of her fingertips and fizzling out somewhere between Cas, Dean and Sam. The next second, the witch herself disappeared in a puff of smoke.

A moment of stunned silence followed, while they were waiting for the smoke to clear. Dean was looking down at himself, counting his extremities just to be on the safe side, then turned to Sam. “She got you?”

“I don’t think so.” Sam was getting up to check himself over as well. “You?”

“Nope,” Dean said, who had discovered no missing and no new appendages. “Cas?”

“Her curse does not seem to have hit me,” the angel replied and then added, “I was just about to smite her.”

“Sure you were,” Dean said and rolled his eyes. As if the witch would have just let him walk up to her and smite her… “So I guess she really sucked at aiming, huh?”

“Well, not more so than you,” Sam noted as he made his way to the door, stepping over the mess their fight had caused.

“She _magically deflected_ the bullets,” Dean defended himself as he followed his brother outside. “She’s one to talk about cheating. I would have hit the bullseye if she hadn’t used magic on me! Besides, I didn’t see _you_ landing any blows.”

“Well, yeah, but I was supposed to be the _bait_ ,” Sam stressed.

Dean turned to Cas, hoping to find an ally there. “Back me up here, Cas,” he said.

“Sam _was_ supposed to be bait,” the angel stated, which made Sam shoot Dean a triumphant look.

“Don’t get me started on you,” Dean said, pointing a finger at Cas. “You weren’t very helpful in there, either.”

“Apart from saving your life, you mean,” Cas deadpanned.

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean mumbled as they reached the Impala. “Next time, _you_ can be our bait,” he told Cas, punching the angel lightly in the arm before he took out his keys.

Cas flinched and stumbled a few steps away, rubbing his arm where Dean had punched him.

“Oh, man up!” Dean rolled his eyes as he walked around the car to get into the driver’s seat. “I hardly even got you.”

Sam, who was just getting into the car himself, snickered. “No wonder, with that aim.”

“Okay, seriously. What part of ‘magical bullet deflection’ don’t you get?”

******

Since they had no idea where to even start looking for the witch who had literally vanished into thin air, they had to admit that they had let this one slip through their fingers. Win some, lose some. Move on.

Sam found them another hunt to make up for it involving a skinwalker. Searching for a black dog in the middle of the woods at night wasn’t the easiest task, but it wasn’t impossible either. This time Dean’s aim was spot on (not that it hadn’t been last time, no matter what Sammy said) and he hit the huge dog right in the head. As the skinwalker fell down onto the forest ground, it morphed back into its human form and then lay there motionless, blood seeping onto the soil. Dean’s marksmanship notwithstanding, the skinwalker had gotten a few good licks in before Dean had put him down.

“Cas?” Dean asked, motioning towards Sam, who was pressing a hand against his shoulder where the skinwalker had gotten him.

Cas was already on his way to heal Sam. He touched two fingers to his forehead, and the bite mark disappeared, but at the same time Cas was doubling over, a keening sound erupting from his throat.

“Cas?” Sam asked, reaching out to him and trying to get him in an upright position again.

Dean was by their side in an instant, helping Cas to sit up, patting his shoulder, his neck, anything he could reach really, in order to make sure the angel wasn’t injured.

“Stop! Please stop!” Cas begged, swatting weakly at Dean’s and Sam’s hands and making a vain attempt at getting away from them.

“What’s going on? What is it?” Dean asked, his voice trembling slightly as he was still looking for some kind of injury that made Cas writhe in agony.

Cas had crawled a few feet away over the dirty forest ground and as soon as there was some space between them, the distressed sounds the angel had been making stopped. He heaved himself up onto shaking feet, but when Dean took a step towards him in order to support him, he held out his hand to stop him advancing further.

“It would seem that the witch was better at aiming than we surmised,” Cas explained.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, though Dean had a sneaking suspicion he knew what Cas was getting at. He really hoped he was wrong about it...

“Some sort of anti-touching spell, I believe,” Cas gave voice to Dean’s fears. Dean felt his stomach drop. There it was. Friggin’ witches! He knew why they were his least favorite species.

“She didn’t want you to heal us anymore,” Sam realized, carefully keeping his distance. “That’s what the spell was about.”

“Okay, this is ridiculous!” Dean said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Anti-touching spells? Really? Is that even a thing?”

“Apparently,” Sam said.

“Super. So instead of savoring our win –” Dean motioned to the dead skinwalker. “– we get to spend the rest of the night researching counter curses for… for ‘anti-cuddle curses’? – Why do you always have to get yourself cursed?” He then asked, turning to the angel.

“That’s not fair,” Sam defended Cas. “He got cursed _once._ You have been cursed way more often.”

“Okay, whatever,” Dean waved his argument off. “So no more touching us until we find the counter curse,” Dean instructed Cas. “Should be easy enough. We survived just fine before you came around. All we gotta do is avoid any mortal wounds and we’ll be fine without your healing mojo.”

Cas looked so miserable at that that Dean reached out instinctively to offer comfort. Only when Cas flinched away from his touch did he realize his mistake, and he quickly held his hands up, taking a step back. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Yeah, this would be easy as pie…


	2. Chapter 2

Back at the bunker’s library they got to work on Plan A, which was looking through every spell book they could get their hands on in an attempt to find the curse Cas was under.

As finding the witch suddenly became important again, they also had to rethink their whole ‘win some, lose some’ attitude and look for any possible (and impossible) leads on where the witch might have gone. Forcing her to reverse the spell was plan B.

“Who would have thought there are so many different anti-touching spells?” Dean grumbled, turning the page of his book with the expressive title ‘Anti-touching curses.’ He skimmed over the page and then huffed out a laugh. “Here is one that electrocutes you every time you touch a doorknob. – Who even comes up with these spells?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders and yawned. “We’re not going to find anything tonight,” he said. “I say we start with fresh eyes tomorrow. – As you said, all we have to do is make sure we don’t get injured too badly overnight. Should be doable.”

Dean smirked. “Don’t fall out of bed?”

“And don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Sam added and got up to stretch before suppressing another yawn.

“Cas, you feeling okay?” Dean asked as he got up himself. “There’s no other element to this curse?”

“No, as long as you don’t touch me, I should be fine,” Cas replied, still looking through his book. “If you don’t mind, I would like to stay and read some more.”

“Yeah, sure, knock yourself out,” Dean said. “Don’t mind us humans who have to go to sleep from time to time.”

“Why would I mind?” Cas mumbled distractedly, never even looking up from his book.

“No reason,” Dean said fondly and suddenly he had the inexplicable urge to go over to the angel and… he didn’t even know himself. Lay a hand on his shoulder perhaps. Or touch his arm. Ruffle his hair. _Something._ But everything he wanted to do was forbidden because it would cause Cas pain. Dean bit his lip and turned away to keep himself from doing any of those things.

“Night,” he threw over his shoulder and left the library, suddenly in the mood to punch something.

******

Dean had not realized before how often he was touching Cas until he suddenly wasn’t allowed to anymore. He accidentally touched Cas three times during the course of the next day. The first time when he entered the library and saw Cas still sitting in his chair, exactly in the same position as they had left him the night before. He walked up to Cas and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, intending to tell him to take a break, too. The next second, Cas was writhing on the floor again making those gut-wrenching keening sounds, and Dean recoiled as if he had been burnt himself, mumbling apologies.

The second time was only a couple hours later. Sam was typing away on his laptop, searching for leads on the witch, and Dean had just found a really funny curse he wanted to share with Cas, so he nudged him with his elbow, sending him scrambling off the chair and away from Dean.

“Sorry,” Dean said for what felt like the tenth time since they had found out about this curse.

Sam looked up from his laptop, watching Dean and Cas with a frown on his face.

“Dude, not cool,” Sam said after it had happened again. Cas had finally had enough after he had been reduced to a whimpering mess for the third time in as many hours and had excused himself to his room.

“What?” Dean asked.

“I just don’t think it’s funny, is all,” Sam said. “It seriously hurts him when you touch him.”

“I know,” Dean replied, angrier than he had intended.

“Well then stop _touching_ him!” Sam said.

“You think I’m doing this on purpose?” Dean asked. He had intended it as a flippant remark, but the expression on Sam’s face told him that he had, in fact, thought so. “Wow. Nice to know you think I’m a douche.”

And with that, Dean got up himself and left the library in a huff. He had no idea why he was getting so cranky. His neck hurt from an unfortunate sleeping position and his back wasn’t feeling any better and somehow he hurt all over. The one time he could really use some healing energy and he couldn’t even go and ask Cas to heal him. Just his luck…

******

“I am not surprised,” Cas said, deadpan.

Dean had just come to the angel’s room to apologize and make sure that Cas didn’t think he had been touching him on purpose, like Sam apparently did. Somehow, Dean had ended up complaining about his various ailments instead.

“I used to heal you of any injuries at night when you were sleeping,” Cas continued. He seemed completely unaware of the fact that he had just said something strange. “Of course, you instructed me not to touch you because of the curse, so…” He motioned towards Dean as if trying to encompass everything that was hurting right now.

“Uhm… come again?” Dean asked.

“You are very weird about these sorts of things,” Cas explained. “I gather you do not like to admit to any weaknesses or ask me to use some of my grace on you. So I had to do it while you were asleep.”

As if that were the most obvious explanation in the world. Dean was still stuck at the fact that, apparently, Cas used to sneak into his room at night to heal him in his sleep. Or had used to do that, in any case. After all the times Dean had told him not to get his freak on by watching him sleep…

“Cas, you can’t just… You can’t… just…” Dean babbled.

“Make you feel better?” Cas suggested.

“No, that’s not what I… You can’t just… _do_ something like that,” Dean finished lamely.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like to admit to any weaknesses – okay, maybe that, too – but that he didn’t like being healed, period. The tingling that originated wherever Cas was touching him and spread out throughout his entire body, making him feel warm and safe. The feeling of love and caring that seeped deep into his bones, almost touching his very soul like a caress. He couldn’t let himself have all of that, not when it felt so damn good it was almost addicting. But apparently Cas had given him all of that without asking anyway.

Vague fragments of dreams flitted through his mind, of nights in which he hadn’t had any nightmares. Dreams that didn’t really consist of images as much as they did of a feeling. A feeling of emotional security, of protection and comfort and belonging.

“Were you not complaining about all the things that are hurting because I was not able to do anything about it?” Cas’ voice brought him out of his thoughts. “So why can’t I ‘just do something like this’ when it has clearly helped you?”

“Well, for one, it’s rude not to ask,” Dean explained because he could hardly cite as his reason that Cas healing him felt too good.

“Dean,” Cas said promptly. “May I heal your afflictions?” Cas’ hand was already reaching out as he was speaking.

“What? No!” Dean jumped back, almost kicking over the chair that stood behind him in his haste to put some space between him and Cas. “Are you crazy? You’re still under the anti-cuddle curse!”

Cas frowned, but at least he let his hand drop. “I am not incapable of healing you,” he noted. “It simply does not feel pleasant.”

Dean had to snort at that. “What are you, the angel of understatements? It looks like you’re being _tortured_ when I touch you, so thanks, but no thanks. – Besides, I think I can manage a slight headache on my own. Or with the help of an aspirin.” Because he was definitely feeling a headache come on due to this inane conversation.

“But we still haven’t found a way to reverse the spell,” Cas insisted. “And that is the reason you are looking for a counter curse in the first place.”

“What is?” Dean asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose to try and relieve the pressure that was building up in his head.

“That I am able to heal you again should you need me to.”

Dean was taken aback by that revelation, which is why it took him a few seconds to react. “That is not the reason,” he finally got out around the lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe that Cas thought that was why they were looking for a way to break the curse. “The reason is that you are _cursed_. The reason is that I accidentally touched you three times today and _hurt_ you doing it. The reason is that I kinda want to smack you right now for saying something so incredibly stupid, but I can’t even do _that_.”

“Oh,” Cas said, his eyes flitting away from Dean’s.

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” Dean repeated. Seriously, Cas had to have been the thickest angel in the garrison if he didn’t realize how utterly… touchable he was. Who wouldn’t want to touch him? Dean for his part wanted to get this curse lifted just so he could give the angel a big hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a bit miffed that we got a Dean & Jack hug instead of the eagerly awaited Dean & Cas hug in 14x03. Since we're already three episodes in and still close to no Dean & Cas, I also wrote a short Dean & Cas fic to balance it out, which takes place in or after season 14 (no real spoilers, though) and which will be posted shortly after my beta had a chance to look over it. ( _Dean says ‘yes’ to Cas._ )


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days were spent much in the same way. They hardly left the bunker, instead spending their time in the library with their noses buried deep in books.

At least Dean got better at avoiding physical contact with Cas. While he still reached out to him quite a lot, he always caught himself before his hand made actual contact with whatever part of Cas he had been going for. This led to some weird moments when Dean reached out to Cas and changed direction mid-reach to pretend that he had been going for the cupboard or the shelf or whatever else was behind the angel. Cas gave him a strange look from time to time, but didn’t comment on Dean’s new habit.

When they finally got a lead on the witch and caught up with her, another hunter had already gotten to her, effectively wrecking their plan B. (“That must have been some skillful hunter if he was better than the two of you,” Cas stated as he was looking at the ashes that had previously been the witch’s body. – “Well, he _must_ have been since he was also better than an _angel_.” – “Or she,” Sam tossed in, but was ignored by both of them.)

Back home Dean realized that he wasn’t the only one who was in a mood. Sam, research geek that he was, didn’t miss a beat and went back to plan A immediately. Cas on the other hand stormed off to his room without saying a word and when Dean followed him, all he had wanted to do was lift the angel’s spirits when he said, “Don’t worry. We’ll find the spell without her help.”

He made a move to squeeze Cas’ arm comfortingly, but of course had to abort the action and ran his fingers through his own hair instead.

“Could you not?” Cas said testily.

“What?” Dean asked, though he suspected that Cas was calling him out on his bluff.

“Make fun of my predicament.”

“What?!” Dean said yet again. This time his voice reached an embarrassing squeak. He cleared his throat and quickly clarified, “I’m not making fun of you.”

Cas squinted at him suspiciously, which was why Dean said, “Seriously. Why would I make fun of you?”

“Oh,” Cas said, his fight leaving him instantly. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

Cas’ eyes flitted around the room. “Nothing.” Dean was ducking his head to try and catch the angel’s eyes, until Cas did look at him again and added, “You will think it is silly.”

“Come on. ’s never stopped you before,” Dean encouraged him.

“It is such a human concept,” Cas hedged, “It should not even bother me.”

When Cas still didn’t elaborate, Dean had to ask, “What’s a human concept?”

“Requiring human comfort. Needing...” Cas trailed off there and motioned towards Dean. When Dean kept looking at him, raising his eyebrows, he mumbled defeated, “Touch.”

Huh. Apparently, Cas was as bummed out about this whole ban on touching thing as Dean was. Go figure.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s not only a ‘human concept.’ And even if it is, you’ve never been worried about being a good little angel before anyway. So just…” Suddenly, he had an idea. “Close your eyes.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at him, but did not close them. “Why?” he asked.

“Just… do it.”

Trusting him implicitly, Cas closed his eyes and just stood there motionless. Dean extended his arm and let his hand rest mere inches above Cas’ shoulder in the air, careful not to touch. “I’m touching you,” he declared.

“No, you are not,” came Cas’ prompt reply, but at least he hadn’t opened his eyes.

“I’m touching you,” Dean repeated more emphatically and this time, Cas didn’t contradict him. “Or at least… It’s close enough.” He could almost feel Cas’ warmth under his hand, could almost feel the soft fabric of his trench coat between his fingers. “Feel that?”

It took Cas a while to answer, but finally he repeated what Dean had said, “Close enough.” But not quite… Dean wanted to scream and go kill every witch in existence.

He was just starting to feel stupid, standing there in the middle of the room, his arm outstretched, but not really touching Cas, when the angel opened his eyes. Dean immediately took one step back.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Sure,” Dean said, as if he had only done it for Cas’ benefit.

******

Of course, it was only a matter of time before one of them got injured. Dean had just hoped that, by then, they would have long lifted the curse. As it turned out, it happened the very next day and monsters didn’t even have anything to do with it. It was just a dumb accident. He had tried to reach for a book on the top shelf of a bookcase and wasn’t in the mood for teasing from his gigantor brother, which was why he had climbed on a chair instead of getting Sam.

Seconds later, he regretted this decision when he was lying on his back on the floor, the bookcase and a pile of books coming down on top of him. A pounding headache that made it hard for him to even keep his eyes open against the suddenly too bright light told him that he had most probably suffered a concussion.

The ruckus had drawn Cas’ attention who had been sitting at the library table and was by his side in an instant. “Dean?” he asked, worry etched into his features and voice as he lifted the bookcase off of Dean.

“I’m okay,” Dean wanted to say, but what came out instead was just a groan.

The next second Dean felt the all too familiar feeling of healing energy rush through his body. “No!” he wanted to yell, but the warmth and tingling was feeling so nice especially after all the pain that this time, his treacherous mouth decided to moan instead.

Of course, the fact that Cas had healed him meant that the angel himself was now lying next to him on the floor, groaning with pain. Which was how Sam found them. To his credit, Sam didn’t comment on the overturned bookcase and chair. Instead, he helped Dean up and back to the table where he sat him in a chair far apart from Cas, who of course had to stumble to his feet on his own, since helping him up would only have hurt him more.

“You know, we humans _have_ managed to heal each other for centuries now without angelic interference,” Dean grumbled. Granted, the experience hadn’t been pleasant, but he would have survived. No need for Cas to go play martyr.

“I think it’s time for plan C,” Sam said, who didn’t give Cas a chance to retort to Dean’s comment.

Plan C – or rather ‘plan Z’ – involved their least favorite witch.

“Agreed,” Dean said. “Let’s give her a call.”


	4. Chapter 4

“So, what you’re saying is that you need an anti anti-cuddle-curse curse?” Rowena’s voice came through the cell phone that was lying on the table in front of Dean, Sam and Cas, who were standing around the table in the control room. The witch sounded far too amused by the whole situation for Dean’s liking.

“That’s not what we’re saying,” Dean said, glaring at the phone.

“But yes,” Sam admitted, which made Dean turn his glare on his brother.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Rowena all but chirped. “I will need a few ingredients, of course.”

“It better not be the heart of an infant or unicorn farts,” Dean said, who knew that with Rowena and spells, it usually involved ingredients that were hard to come by.

Sam cleared his throat. “Sidebar?” he mouthed, motioning for Dean to put the phone on mute. As soon as Dean had pushed the button, Sam continued, “Didn’t she agree to this a little too quickly? I mean – what does she get out of it?”

“The pleasure of helping the good guys for a change?” Dean asked. “Who cares? Let’s just take her up on the offer before she remembers that she’s an evil witch who only cares about herself.”

“I can still hear you, boys,” Rowena’s voice came over the phone. “But thanks for the compliment.”

“Damn,” Dean swore, pushing the correct button this time.

“So what, we just trust her now?” Sam asked. He glanced at the cell phone, probably to check if she really couldn’t hear him.

“Of course not,” Dean snorted. “We just let her give us the spell and then we can still double-check if it’s legit.” He looked over at Cas, who had followed the discussion silently. “Anyone got a better plan?” he asked. When no one spoke up, he muttered, “Thought so.” and unmuted the phone.

“Okay, you got yourself a deal,” Dean said.

“What deal?” Rowena asked. “There is no deal. I’m doing you boys a favor. I expect you to return that favor some day in the future.”

“And that’s your deal,” Sam decided.

******

Rowena did in fact not need any hearts or farts for the curse, though she did require a few herbs that were difficult to acquire. It took them a couple of days to get everything she needed, and Dean’s frustration only festered. He hadn’t been allowed to touch his angel in _ages_ and his fingers were still itching to reach out at every opportunity.

So when Rowena finally cooked up a concoction under their watchful eyes and Sam’s research confirmed that it was not a harmful spell but had actually something to do with reversing a curse focused on touching (or not touching, as the case may be), Dean was bouncing on his feet, about ready to get this whole thing over with.

Rowena’s chipper mood should have tipped them off. Her eyes were sparkling just a little bit too brightly. But what choice did they have, anyway? When she spoke a few words and a puff of smoke rose up above the bronze bowl, Dean felt something inside him untighten. Something he hadn’t even been aware of before, but now that it was gone, he felt freer than he had all week. Dean’s first reaction was one of relief. That must have been what had kept Cas from being able to touch him without hurting himself in the process. Rowena hadn’t screwed them over, who would have thought?

The next moment, an inexplicable urge overcame him to cuddle the bejesus out of Cas. Well, it might not have been all that inexplicable, since he had had a similar urge the last few days, but this one was definitely a magical kind of urge. He could tell because he had originally planned on holding back until the witch had left the bunker. The urge grew stronger by the second, pushing him towards Cas, and he could hardly resist. Sammy next to him seemed to have a similar problem because he took two steps towards Cas and wrapped his arms around him, not letting go again, even after the socially acceptable amount of touching time had passed.

Dean finally had no choice but to give in as well and he joined the hug, wrapping his arms around both Cas and Sammy. He could hear giggling but turning his head to glare at Rowena seemed too much effort. Especially when he could just bury his face in Cas’ shoulder instead, inhaling the sweet smell of Heaven.

Cas was cuddling back with everything he got, which made Dean suspect that he was under the influence, too. The cuddle pool they had going on felt strangely comfortable and comforting, (anti-)curse or not, and Dean had almost forgotten that they still had an audience, he was enjoying the contact so much.

A clicking sound finally did make Dean look up, though. Rowena was taking frigging _pictures_ on her cell phone, grinning at them widely. “Enjoy, boys,” she said, taking one last picture for good measure. “This one was on the house.” And then she dared to walk away from them, leaving them just… cuddling and embracing and snuggling the shit out of each other.

When she reached the door, she paused to throw over her shoulder, “Don’t worry, lads, this will wear off… eventually.” And then she was gone.

“I’m gonna _kill_ her,” Dean groused, cuddling closer still.

“At least it doesn’t seem to hurt Cas anymore,” Sam said. “Right?”

“The anti-touching curse appears to have been lifted,” Cas confirmed, even though it had been rather obvious with the way the angel was clinging to them. “Your touch feels very pleasant again.” As if to prove a point, he nuzzled into Dean’s neck.

Dean could barely contain himself from replying, “Back atcha.”

“May I?” Cas asked, and even though Dean had no idea what he was asking for exactly, he nodded his head anyway. A moment later he felt Cas’ hand on his back push him closer still, if that were at all possible, and then healing energy was flowing through Dean’s body, making him tingle all over.

“Yeah, that’s the good stuff,” Dean mumbled and closed his eyes, feeling all the stress of the last few days leave his body along with the residual pain. He returned the favor by rubbing his hands over Cas’ back and hoped it felt good even if he didn’t have any angelic healing powers. If this was going to last a while, he might as well enjoy it.

Cas, who was squished tightly between them, sighed contently, leaning into the touch. Yeah, Dean was definitely going to kill Rowena. Or maybe send her a thank-you note. Could go either way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, any kind of feedback is highly treasured and welcomed.
> 
> **People who kudosed this fanfiction also kudosed:**
> 
> ☆ **[Touch Deprived](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16306436/chapters/38141030)** (4.1k, _Cas has to come up with excuses to be able to touch Dean and Sam. Or is it the other way around?_ )
> 
> ☆ **[A Hug for a Bet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672447/chapters/39095824)** (3.9k, _In order to prove that Cas needs touch more than he does, Dean makes a bet with his angel that might just come back to bite him in the ass._ )


End file.
